My stomach and heart traded places, and I slid my clammy hands over my thighs again, noticing Jake’s glance following their movement. His lips were pressed together. I remembered those lips on mine and down my body, and I felt flustered and inarticulate. My mouth opened to speak, and I had no idea what would come out.
“There’s no switch to flip, and I am scared.”
He turned to face me, his expression inscrutable and his gaze intensified, those blue eyes searching my face.
“But I don’t want to be.” I took another measured breath and continued. “We had something good, and I blew up at you and it wasn’t fair and . . .” I searched for how to end my confession with something sweet and endearing. I drew a blank, and goose bumps rose on my arms.
He nodded, his chin dipping almost imperceptibly.
“It was inexcusable to just walk away and ignore you, to make you feel disposable, because you’re the furthest thing from that.” I gave up on finding the perfect thing to say and let everything out. “And, I should have told you about my ex sooner. I was embarrassed, and I didn’t realize how much he’d taken up residence in my head. I have a lot of work to do on myself still, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to put your career at risk to save me. I still don’t want that for you, so I understand if—” I stopped short.
His kiss was full of gentle sweetness, a hint of hunger and want. Our tongues met, sliding over each other’s, and his fingers brushed the sensitive skin near my ear. We pulled apart, just an inch, and he pressed his forehead to mine.
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” he said, cupping my face in both of his warm palms. “I don’t want an if.” He pecked at my lips between statements. “Nay, I would risk anything for you. Don’t you know that? And you have to believe that I know what you do is valuable. I always have.”
Another tinge of anxiety ran through me. “Our program being safe, was that you?”
“I would have pushed for it, but I didn’t have to.” He noticed something on my face and hurried to clarify. “I would have pushed because it should be safe, despite our initial findings. Your program is high potential, and everyone on our team agreed once we shifted to the current model. What you do matters, Naya. It’s worth fixing what’s broken in your department.”
He stared intently into my eyes, and I didn’t look away. “And you matter. To me, you matter more than anyone.”
His lips hovered near mine again; his touches were just as soft and his tongue as intent as before, but this time our physical connection was hard-won. When Jake told me I mattered, I wanted to be the person who deserved those words.
His voice in my ear was the only sound I cared about. “You’re . . .”
“Getting better at flirting?”
“What do you mean?” His forehead fell gently against mine as he laughed. “Your flirting skills have always been impeccable.”
“You must have forgotten how I got sick while attempting to have a one-night stand with you.”
Jake’s grin widened. “That was definitely memorable, but only a guy who was already falling for you would have texted you the next day.”
I laughed, blinking back the tears welling in my eyes. “You texted me that night.”
“Exactly.” He cupped a cheek with one hand. “One night would never have been enough.”
The puff of his breath touched my cheek, and a grin formed on my face, mirroring his. I opened my mouth to speak, but voices behind us stopped me. Our eyes widened, and we parted quickly as the group of faculty members from the dietetics department emerged from the trees, waving in our direction. I waved back, and Jake stifled a laugh, dipping his chin as they moved toward the dock as the sun began to set.
Jake slid his fingers across the ground between us, rubbing a thumb over my knuckles, the grains of sand rough between our skin.
“Have you checked everything off of your list?” he said finally as the group settled near the dock thirty feet from us. His voice was deep and low; our only physical connection—our fingers in the sand—felt like being naked with him.
“Yes. But now I’ve added new things.” I wrapped my arms loosely around his waist. “I want to learn to cook, travel, learn Spanish. I want to run a marathon and start volunteering. I took a couple self-defense classes, and I think I might try kickboxing.”
“Where will you start?”
“I’m planning on you teaching me to cook, to begin with. I hope the relationship can survive.”